


lover be good to me

by Grigori_girl



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grigori_girl/pseuds/Grigori_girl
Summary: Fully seated, she gives him time to adjust, taking a page out of his book and stroking his back soothingly as he trembles, just as he does for her.After a long moment, Ethan turns his head and she can finally see his face; kiss-bitten lips and a deep, burning blush painting his cheekbones, the blue of his eyes near-swallowed by the black of his pupil, half hidden by the unruly curls falling over his forehead.He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart)
Kudos: 19





	lover be good to me

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: I can’t stop thinking about watermelon sugar and how beautifully you executed it. Is there any chance you’d write for oph again and do one for Ethan? 👀 I’m asking for a friend
> 
> say no more, my friend. if pegging is my new brand, i'll happily lean into it

When he mentions it, he’s blushing furiously.

A rarity, for the unflappable Ethan Ramsey.

They’re sitting in his living room, relaxing on the couch after a long day at work. Her feet are in his lap, his hands kneading them dutifully as some random, mindless sitcom plays on the television; the main couple mention their preferences in the bedroom to a soundtrack of canned laughter. 

His skillful hands falter for half a beat, Harper casting him a curious glance until the connection clicks, and she says with a pointed lightness, “You know, if there’s anything you want to try, you can tell me.” 

“I know,” he says a little too quickly, but she knows him, so she waits patiently, watching as that brilliant mind of his makes a decision. It takes a long moment, during which his ears steadily turn pink with the beginnings of his embarrassment, before he meets her gaze and says, “What’re your thoughts on pegging?” 

Which is how she finds herself sucking bruises onto the sensitive skin of his inner thighs a few days later, fingers slick with lube as she slowly, carefully works him open. 

He shifts restlessly, twists the sheets in a white-knuckled grip when her breath ghosts over his straining cock. Ethan hisses ‘tease’ through gritted teeth, though there’s a certain glint of fondness in his eyes as she laughs lowly. Harper takes pity on him, endeared by the loose curls falling over his forehead. She drags her tongue from base to tip before taking him in her mouth, sucking at his weeping head. 

Ethan tips his head back with a groan, hips stuttering, unsure whether to thrust into the warm, wet heat of her mouth or grind down onto the pleasant invasion of her fingers. Her name falls from his lips like a mantra as she breathes deep through her nose and swallows him down fully, throat working around his length as she slips a third finger past his entrance. 

His fingers tangle in her hair, gathers it back into his fist even as he pants, the soft planes of his belly straining. She pulls away with a small gasp, a thin string of saliva following her mouth. Ethan swipes it away, strokes shaking knuckles against her cheek, feverish eyes watching her face until she nods her ‘okay’. 

Harper banishes the soft tenderness of his gaze as she wraps her hand around his cock, stroking him in time to the movement of her fingers. He barks a curse as his head falls back against the mattress, the fingers still curled in her hair tugging with the movement. The slight bite of pain makes her cunt throb, but she ignores it in favor of kissing her way up his body, nipping at his flushed skin until she’s close enough that Ethan can surge up and slant his mouth against hers.

The angle of their bodies is a little awkward, but she doesn’t let up the pace of her hands, smiling inwardly as Ethan’s breath stutters across her cheek. His lips drag across her cheek, his beard scratching at her jaw. 

“H-Harper,” he groans into her skin, the hand in her hair tightening. 

“Use your words, honey.” She says, pressing a chaste kiss to the sensitive skin behind his ear. He buries his face against her bare shoulder, plants open mouth kisses along the wings of her collarbone. “Tell me what you want.” 

He bites her, instead. Bastard. 

She presses her fingers against the spot that makes him keen, in retaliation, his body going taut beneath her. 

“Your words, Ethan.” 

He groans again, different, defiant. Stubborn, as usual, and wholly unwilling to be the least bit vulnerable unless she pries it out of him, but she was used to it. And a hell of a lot more hard headed than he gave her credit for; she’d happily wait all night for him to buck up and tell her how he wants to be fucked. 

Ethan hisses a string of profanity, lips moving against her skin, until he finally relents, tipping his head back to meet her eyes. “I need  _ more. _ ” 

She pauses, deliberates between giving in and seeing if she can really make him  _ beg _ ...but she takes pity and kisses him softly, drawing away her hands. 

Never let it be said that Harper Jackson is not a kind and giving soul. 

She reaches for the bottle of lube half-hidden by the rumpled sheets. “Roll over for me?” 

He does, a shudder tripping down his spine, the muscles of his shoulders bunching as he shifts and settles. Harper pours a generous amount of lube into the palm of her hand, uses it to slick the silicone cock strapped to her hips, the excess painting Ethan’s backside as she makes sure he’s comfortable. 

Harper lines herself up, probing, a little unsure, but Ethan rocks his hips back encouragingly. Carefully, afraid of hurting him, she presses forward, slow even as he groans into the mattress. Fully seated, she gives him time to adjust, taking a page out of his book and stroking his back soothingly as he trembles, just as he does for her. 

After a long moment, Ethan turns his head and she can finally see his face; kiss-bitten lips and a deep, burning blush painting his cheekbones, the blue of his eyes near-swallowed by the black of his pupil, half hidden by the unruly curls falling over his forehead. 

He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

Ridiculous though it may be, Harper’s chest tightens in a wave of affection. She knew she loved him, of  _ course  _ she did, but something about the way he looks now has her heart beating double-time, as if reminding her how fiercely she feels for him. 

His hips rock back impatiently, breaking her from her reverie. Hesitantly, she grips his hips and pulls back slowly, until just the head remains inside, then snaps forward, instantly rewarded with his deep groan. Harper begins moving in earnest, though it takes her a moment to get the rhythm of her thrusts down to something that makes Ethan bury his face into the mattress. 

She watches as his flush steadily devours the freckled skin of his shoulders, her nails digging crescent moons into the soft give of his hips, his ass, marking him the way she knows he likes. Harper finds herself quickly fascinated with the way his back flexes as he meets her thrust for thrust, and she finds her thumbs settling into the dimples on his lower back. Her hands can’t span his waist the way his hands can her’s. She used to tease him about the fixation he seemed to have with the little divots on her own back, pointed out a thousand times that they were little more than a birth defect, but now...she suddenly understands with perfect clarity their appeal. 

There’s something absolutely captivating about the thought that their bodies were made for each other, down to the most innocuous detail. 

Ethan shifts beneath her, one white-knuckled hand releasing the crumpled sheets to wedge beneath his body, hips stuttering at the first brush against his cock. Harper’s pressing forward before she realizes it, reaching down to tug at his arm with a noise of disapproval. 

He makes a sound of frustration, mixed somewhere between a grunt and a whine. 

“Let me,” she says, layering her body over the arched line of his spine, lavishing kisses over every inch of skin she can reach. “Let me make you feel good.” 

“Christ, Harper.” He hisses, voice straining as she knocks his hand out of the way, pumping the fist around his shaft in time to the slow rocking of her hips. She presses sharp bites to his shoulder blades, soothes the sting with her tongue; tangles a hand in his hair, yanks his head back so she can suck a bruise into the sensitive skin behind his ear.

Ethan reaches behind himself, grabs at the meat of her ass as she swivels maddeningly slow against him. She trails her lips down his neck, his shoulder, gifting the secret of her smile to a constellation of freckles as expletives pour from his begging mouth the closer he draws to release. 

She doesn’t wait for him to ask this time, the movement of her hand speeding up obligingly, the snapping sound of her hips against his, skin on skin, obscene in the near-quiet of the bedroom. Though he’s usually taller than she, in this position, Ethan can tip his head back against her shoulder, the angle just on this side of uncomfortable, but the hot puff of his panting breath against her skin tells her he is  _ anything  _ but uncomfortable. 

When he comes, it’s with his teeth scraping against her jaw, a long moan half-muffled into the heat of her skin. 

Harper strokes him through the shuddering aftershocks, his release spilling over her hand. She kisses any bit of him she can reach, softly, waiting patiently as he comes down from the high of his orgasm. When he does, it’s with soft kisses of his own, eyes hazy, body loose and sated. 

He winces slightly when she pulls away, the strange emptiness a feeling she knows well. Part of her feels bad, as she assesses the damage she’d inflicted on his back, but if it bothers him he doesn’t show it, simply shuffling foreword before flopping lazily onto his back. 

Harper laughs softly, nimble hands already working at the buckles of her harness as she totters back from the bed on unsteady legs. “Good?” She asks, desperately hoping she doesn’t sound worried. 

Ethan simply hums his agreement, eyes closed. 

She smiles, then tugs at the top sheet pinned beneath his long legs. “Gimme this, I’ll go toss it in the wash while I clean up.” He twists and shimmies until she can get it out from under him, still uselessly boneless. 

The sheet bundled in her arms, Harper leaves the bedroom, stopping every few feet to scoop up the trail of their discarded clothes, and she thanks any deity that’ll listen that Ethan can afford to be too snooty to use a communal laundromat  _ (I am not ‘snooty’,  _ he says in her memory, indignant,  _ I’m tired of having to buy a new wardrobe every month when someone steals my clothes)  _ as she ducks into the designated room, Jenner raising his head as she flicks on the lights. 

Quickly wiping off her hand and passing the sheet between her thighs, Harper then tosses the bundle into the washer and sets about starting it, grinning as Jenner’s collar jingles as he shakes himself awake. “Sorry, buddy. You can come out now.” She says as he trots out to the darkened kitchen, no doubt in search of food, the glutton. 

Harper leaves him to it, slipping into the bathroom to properly clean both herself and the silicone toy, before wetting a washcloth in warm water and dutifully returning to Ethan. 

He hadn’t moved an inch from where she left him, still gloriously stretched out and lazy, one arm draped across his sternum and the other propped beneath his head. Harper skims a hand up his calf in quiet greeting and he parts his legs obligingly, shivering slightly as she wipes away excess lube and the traces of his cum. She moves to go toss the rag in the hamper, collect the duvet haphazardly tossed onto the ottoman at the foot of the bed, but Ethan snags her hand and pulls her down into a soft kiss. She indulges for a moment, but dances nimbly out of reach when his hand creeps along the back of her thigh, dexterous fingers creeping toward her cunt. 

“Ah, ah.” She chides playfully, tossing the washcloth into the open hamper, heaving the heavy comforter up enough that she can chuck it at his head. Ethan laughs, unburies himself as Jenner slips in just before Harper can shut the bedroom door. She hits the lights and clambers into bed, wriggling in close as Ethan holds the edge of the blanket up for her to join him. 

She kisses him, soft, sleepy as he gathers her to his chest, Jenner dutifully curling into a ball at the foot of the bed. They settle against the mattress, shuffling quietly until they’re properly entangled, her head pillowed on his chest and one leg slung across his thighs, his hand tangled in her hair, thumb rubbing gentle circles at the base of her skull. 

Harper says into the silence, “I hope it was okay.” She feels Ethan huff a laugh beneath her, his breath fanning across her face. She pinches his side. “I’m serious! It was,” she pauses, biting her lip. “It was nice getting to take care of you.” 

When Ethan kisses her, it’s with a tenderness that makes her heart flutter, even as the smile he can’t quite hide keeps breaking the seal of their lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me over on tumblr @grigori-girl!


End file.
